


Deliverance

by kallistob



Series: Grindelgraves AUs [2]
Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Acts of Kindness, Confused Graves, Control, Grindelwald is kind to him and Graves is so lost, Imprisonment, Kisses, M/M, Mindfuck, loss of magic, time loss, touches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-25
Updated: 2017-10-25
Packaged: 2019-01-22 22:39:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12492392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kallistob/pseuds/kallistob
Summary: He is restrained, but not chained or locked up. His magic is feeble, useless due to the silver bracelets adorning each of his wrists and ankles.He is still clothed, warmed and fed. Grindelwald has done nothing to hurt him yet, except for taking on Graves’ own appearance. He can’t leave the house, but he is still free to walk from room to room, to read, to do anything he wishes as if nothing were wrong.





	Deliverance

He fights. Like a dragon. A raging storm. An untamable beast Grindelwald was never supposed to approach, much less capture. 

Oh, Grindelwald knows how to play him just right. He knows how to wait for the storm to abate until it becomes a drizzle, he knows not to answer the snarls, growls and curses until they fade into nothing but an enquiring tilt of the head. 

He can see the questions behind Graves’ eyes, plain as day.  

_ He is restrained, but not chained or locked up. His magic is feeble, useless due to the silver bracelets adorning each of his wrists and ankles.   _

_ He is still clothed, warmed and fed. Grindelwald has done nothing to hurt him yet, except for taking on Graves’ own appearance. He can’t leave the house, but he is still free to walk from room to room, to read, to do anything he wishes as if nothing were wrong.  _

-

They have dinner together. 

Grindelwald asks him about the books he read during the day, and he complains about the dullness of filling in Graves’ paperwork. He wishes Percival a good night as he sends the dishes into the sink to wash themselves and then, just before he leaves - 

The ghost of a touch. A hand running through Graves’ silken hair - free of the product he used everyday to slick it back, because he doesn’t go to work anymore. Graves flinches, goosebumps erupting over his skin, but in the time it takes him to bare his teeth Grindelwald is gone. 

-

The touches continue. So does the unexplainable  _ care _ with which Grindelwald treats him, as if Graves was something precious, and not an enemy. 

Grindelwald binds his hands, and shaves him with controlled, precise swipes of the blade, fingers tight around his jaw, secure but not threatening. He washes Graves’ hair and his back, careful and slow. Graves doesn’t understand. He can’t help but shiver and lean into the man’s touch, closing his eyes. Pretending, for one second, that it is alright to feel this way.  

Grindelwald feeds him - three times a day, rich and healthy meals, until Graves decides he might have to work out inside his flat, if only to keep himself in shape. But Grindelwald nods, satisfied, as Graves finishes his meals, and Graves takes all the strength he can get. 

He does his best to keep Grindelwald in a good mood. Grindelwald has never tortured him, but Graves doesn’t know when the man will lose patience, asking Graves for safe codes and MACUSA secrets he is not willing to give. 

-

Since Grindelwald is so docile, perhaps he could use it to his advantage, Graves thinks. Play friendly. Get to know the wizard. If only to stop his brain from wrapping in on itself and crush him under the guilt. 

So he starts responding to the conversation at dinner. 

He wishes Grindelwald a good day as he leaves, trying not to sound too bitter. 

He reads his library upside down and finds nothing useful to get rid of the bracelets binding his magic. The only one who knows is Grindelwald, and Grindelwald will not let him go. 

-

He asks Grindelwald if he can go outside.  To his shock, the man allows it. He watches Graves tightly; there are more runes onto the bracelets preventing Graves from apparating or running away. Graves is in disguise, but the fresh air of the park clears his head and makes his so called captivity easier to bear. 

When the time comes, Graves follows Grindelwald dutifully to  _ their _ flat. 

-

Life settles into a routine after that. 

Wake up in soft sheets and make the bed. Take a shower or a bath. Eat breakfast with Grindelwald. Work out. Read. 

Wait and wait and  _ wait _ . Graves is not sure what he’s hoping for anymore, rescue or Grindelwald’s return. 

Grindelwald takes him out sometimes - the park, a museum, and then dinner. Almost, Graves thinks, like actual dates. These evenings are surprisingly relaxing, once Graves stops planning his escape from Grindelwald’s hold in his head as he drinks his wine. 

-

One final day, when Graves is restless, pent up with too much unused magical energy, the storm bubbling just under the surface of his skin, simmering, threatening to overwhelm him - Grindelwald kisses him. 

It’s less of a kiss and more of a simple press of lips against each other, but it’s enough to make Graves still in shock. He calms down, his magic receding. 

“I could teach you, you know,” Grindelwald says as if nothing happened. 

“Teach me what?” Graves is breathless. 

“Anything.” Grindelwald runs his thumb over the bitten, cracked skin of Graves’ lips. “Everything.” 

“Magic?” 

“For example. So that you may never know defeat again.” 

“Why would you help  _ me _ become stronger?” 

Grindelwald places his hand over Graves’ heart. “You have an infinite amount of power in you, darling. I want to help you control it.” 

“Why?” Graves repeats, unable to fathom the depths of Grindelwald’s mind. 

“Because you deserve it. You deserve more than what MACUSA gave you.” 

“A steady income and a job I strived for my whole life,” Graves retorts. 

“And,” Grindelwald says skeptically, “added stress, nightmares, restless nights, clothes hanging loosely on your frame, too much coffee. An exhaustion running so deep you failed to even disarm me. Not that you would have been able to, even if you were in shape, but this was too easy for a wizard whose reputation crosses borders.” 

Grindelwald is right - Merlin knows he’s right. Graves feels familiar shame course through him and lowers his eyes. 

“I won’t join your side,” Graves still says, clinging to what he knows is right. “My allegiances lie with MACUSA.” 

“But darling, why would you still be loyal to them after they keep failing you so spectacularly?” 

And once again he is right. Graves is a prisoner in his own home. With each passing day his colleagues, even the President, fail to notice Grindelwald’s superchery and Graves’ unforgivable failure. 

And the worst thing is that being here, like this, with Grindelwald, is almost better. The gentle touches the dark wizard grace him with ground him in a way nothing had been able to these past couple of years. He’s grown to anticipate them, to like them, even though he hates himself for it. 

Even though, now, he can’t think of a day where Grindelwald apparating inside his home each evening and pressing a kiss to Graves’ temple wouldn’t feel right. 

He shouldn’t feel like this, he knows. Maybe he’s drugged. But he can’t help it. He is well fed, well rested,  _ cared for _ by the most unlikely person. And he does miss his magic, so he says, “Please teach me.” 

Grindelwald smiles. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> an old, short, revised fic. i do enjoy fucking with Graves way too much. hope you enjoyed it :)


End file.
